CHAPTER IV
THE POACHER
It was a chilly night when Dane crouched in very damp clover beside astraggling hedge, waiting for the poachers, and wishing he had been wiseenough to remain at home. Rain had fallen throughout the day, and nowheavy clouds drifted overhead, while a chilly breeze shook an eerysighing out of the firs behind him. The moon was seldom visible, but asubdued luminescence filtered through, and he could just see Maxwellcrouching in a neighboring ditch which was not wholly dry.
"What are you meditating upon, Hilton?" Maxwell asked.
"I was just thinking what a fool I was to come at all, and that it isalmost time I went home again. When a man has had tropical fever it ishis own fault if he suffers from indulgence in amusements of thisdescription."
"I am not entirely comfortable either," Maxwell said dryly. "My bootsare full of water, and my hair is thick with sand; but I dare say bothof us have had worse experiences. If those fellows don't come in thenext ten minutes I'll turn back with you."
Neither said anything further for a space. The firs moaned behind them,the dampness chilled them through, and the odor of wet clover was intheir nostrils. When, instead of ten minutes, nearly half an hour hadpassed, there was a low whistle from a hidden keeper, and Dane coulddimly see several indistinct figures in the adjoining meadow.
"Kevan and the constable should head them off," whispered Maxwell. "I'llrace you for the first prisoner, Hilton!"
It was characteristic of Maxwell that he had worked an opening ready inthe hedge, and slipped through it, while Dane hurled himself crashingupon the thorns. He broke through them, somehow, and noticed very littleas he raced across the dripping aftermath except that two men strove todrag something over the opposite hedge. Before he could reach it,Maxwell had separated from him, and because the moon shone down througha rift in the clouds, he saw him clear the hedge in a flying bound. Thenext moment he had his hand on the collar of one man brought up by thethorns. Dane saw his face for an instant, and then, when the otherkicked him savagely on the knee, he shifted his hand to his throat, andwas doing his best to choke the fight out of him when he heard footstepsbehind him, and something descended heavily upon his head. He fell witha violence that shook the remaining senses out of him, and lay vacantlylistening to the sound of running feet and hoarse shouts which grewfainter in the distance, until Maxwell, returning, shook him by the arm.It was dark again now, for the moon had vanished, and a thin drizzle wasfalling. Dane's head ached intolerably, and a warm trickle ran into oneof his eyes.
"Are you badly hurt, Hilton?" asked Maxwell, stooping and holding out aflask.
"No," Dane answered dubiously, as, gripping his comrade's hand, hestaggered to his feet. "Mine is a pretty thick cranium, but somebodydid their best to test its solidity with the butt of a gun. Did you getthem?"
"We did not." Maxwell, who seldom showed what he felt, evinced nochagrin. "The constable managed to stick fast in the one gap in thesecond hedge; but we got their net, and, although I don't wish totrouble you if you are not fit, if you could describe the fellow yougrappled with, we should know where to find him."
Dane did so to the best of his ability.
"It's young Jim Johnstone!" the keeper exclaimed; "an' after this weshould grip him trying to slip off by the night train. I'm minding Mr.Black told me he'd e'en be sitting up in case yon rascals killedonybody, an' ye needed authority. He's a pleasant-spoken gentleman, an'this is a clear case o' unlawful woundin'."
"Start at once with that fool of a policeman!" said Maxwell. "Now,Hilton, if you can manage to walk as far as the road, I will drive youhome."
He held out his arm, but grew tired long before they reached his trap:Dane was no featherweight, and he leaned upon him heavily. When Maxwellhelped his comrade down before The Larches there were lights in thelower windows, though it was very late, and its owner stood upon thesteps awaiting them.
"I could not sleep until I heard whether you had caught the rascals," hebegan. "But what's this? Have they hurt you, Hilton?"
"Not much, sir," answered Dane.
Seeing Mrs. Chatterton in the hall, he shook off Maxwell's arm, andattempted to enter it unassisted to prove his assertion. The attempt,however, was a distinct failure. He tripped upon a mat, reeled forwarddrunkenly, and, clutching at the nearest chair, sank into it, presentinga sufficiently surprising spectacle, for his collar, as he subsequentlyfound, was burst, while there were generous rents in his garments, andthe red trickle flowed faster down his face. Then there followedconfusion, for Mrs. Chatterton was a gentle but easily disconcertedlady, and her husband addicted to over-vigorous action. So, while theone proceeded in search of bandages, and, not finding them, returned toask useless questions and, in spite of his feeble protests, pour coldwater over Dane's injured head, Chatterton smote a gong and hurledconfused orders at the startled servants. This lasted until a daintyfigure came swiftly down the stairway, and chaos was reduced to orderwhen Lilian took control with a firm hand.
"Don't trouble him with questions, Aunty, but get some brandy, quick!"she said. "Uncle, please do not make any more useless noise, but ask oneof these foolish women to bring hot water. Annie, bring me the arnica,and the first piece of clean linen you can find. Now, Hilton, you arenot hurt very badly, are you?"
She bent down, with the light of a big hanging lamp upon her, and,forgetting the faintness and pain, which was considerable, Dane felt hisheart bound within him. In spite of her swift orderliness, the girl'seyes were anxious as well as very pitiful, and there was a tension inher voice.
"No," he replied, as carelessly as he could, for all his pulses werethrobbing. "I am just a little dizzy, and shall be better presently. Iam chiefly ashamed of making such a scene, Lily."
It did the man good to see the relief in his attendant's face. MissChatterton flushed a little under his gaze and became once more strictlypractical.
"The wound is worse than you suppose," she said, with a slight butperceptible shiver. "Take a mouthful of this brandy, and I will fix adressing. Aunty, hold the bandage, and give me the scissors!"
She did all very cleverly, then slipped away; and ten minutes later Danewas glad to bid Chatterton and his wife good-night. His head stillthrobbed painfully--for the trigger-guard which struck his forehead hadbitten deep--and, having seen what pleased him greatly, he desired to bealone to think.
When he had gone, Mrs. Chatterton looked at her husband.
"Did it strike you as significant that Lily should come down at a fewmoments' notice dressed just as she left us?" she asked.
"Am I quite a fool?" said Chatterton, and then added in oracularfashion: "Hilton Dane will make his mark some day; and it was hisfather's roll which started me on the way to prosperity."
As it happened, Lilian Chatterton had also food for reflection, and satlong by an open window looking out into the night. There was no doubt,she admitted, that she found Hilton Dane's society congenial. His swiftdeference to all her wishes pleased her; and as he had intimated that hedesired nothing more than her friendship, there was no reason why itshould not be granted him. Under different circumstances the girlfancied that her interest might have carried her farther; but ThomasChatterton's thinly veiled command was a fatal barrier. Even then shefrowned, remembering the summary manner in which he had purposed todispose of her as though she were a chattel. Nevertheless, she had beenbadly startled by the sight of the wounded man; and the fact remainedthat when her eyes first rested upon him she grew almost faint with asudden and wholly unexplainable fear. Lilian wondered, with a crimsoningof her face, whether she had betrayed the relief she certainlyexperienced on discovering that his injuries were not serious; and thenshe closed the window with somewhat unnecessary violence.
The next sun had not long risen when Dane went out shakily into thefreshness of the morning. His brain had refused duty during thepreceding night, and there were questions to be grappled with. HiltonDane possessed a long patience, but, although a chivalrous person, hewas not a fool. He shrank
from the thought of allowing the iron-master'sward to be forced into a union with him, even if that werepossible--about which, however, knowing the young lady's character, hewas very doubtful. Also, he was at present a comparatively poor man, andthough he believed there was a moderate fortune in his invention, he sawthat some time must elapse before he could realize it. Abusing hishost's interference fervently, he decided that because the continualeffort to keep silence was wearing his resolution down, it would be wellto avoid further temptation by leaving The Larches.
He had just arrived at this decision when Chatterton came upon him.
"You do not look at all fit, Hilton," said the elder man. "The cut onyour forehead would, of course, account for that; but it has struck melately that something is troubling you. I refrain on principle fromprying into other folks' affairs; but, considering the time I haveknown you, if you have any difficulty, I think you might confide it tome."
Dane understood what lay behind this, and he felt that it was the lastthing under the circumstances he would think of doing.
"You have made my stay here so pleasant that if I remain much longer Ishall never be fit for work again," he said. "I have accordingly decidedto run up to London, and, if the railroad builders have not my work cutout, look round for another foreign commission."
Thomas Chatterton started a little, and tried to hide a frown.
"I thought you had changed your mind after the letter you showed me, anddecided to stay in this country. It strikes me as downright folly torisk accidents and fevers abroad with such a patent in your hands. Yourpump would beat the best pulsometer ever put into a mine. If you don'tapprove of the offers you have received, and my suggestions, why can'tyou sell it to the public through a limited company?"
Dane laughed a little.
"As I said before, sir, by the time I paid promoters and directors,there would be very little left for me. If the pump, which cost years ofthought and experimenting, is to enrich anybody it shall be itsinventor; and another good foreign commission should supply me with thenecessary money."
"Listen to me," said Chatterton. "It is time I spoke plainly. I havebeen called a hard man, but I hope I am equally just, and I had to fightdesperately for a foothold at the beginning. Well, I kept a mentalledger, and no man ever robbed or assisted me but I made against hisname a debit or credit entry. Some of those debts were heavy, but indue time I paid them back in full."
For a moment Chatterton certainly looked a hard man as he shut his handslowly, and with a very grim expression in his heavy-jawed visage,stared steadily at Dane. Then the grimness vanished as he added:
"There is still a sum standing to the credit of Henry Dane, and I feelashamed often that I have let it stand so long. There is still one wayin which you could help me wipe it off, if none of those mentionedalready suits you. My niece will not leave me dowerless--and--for if ithad not been so I should not have spoken--you expressed your admirationpretty openly some years ago."
Dane had no enviable task before him, but, remembering his compact, hewas determined to accomplish it, even if it should be necessary to use alittle brutality.
"I am afraid I see two somewhat important objections, sir," he answeredquietly. "In the first place, it is not apparent that the lady approvesof me."
"Pshaw!" said Chatterton. "When I was your age I never allowed suchtrifles to daunt me. You surely did not expect her to say she had beenpatiently waiting for you?"
"I think I mentioned two objections, sir, and the second is of almostequal importance," Dane responded gravely. "I am at present a poor man,you see."
Thomas Chatterton faced round on him again with his jaw protruded, and adeeper hue in his generally sufficiently florid countenance.
"You need not be, unless you are fond of poverty. You mean----"
"That a boy and girl attachment seldom lasts long--on either side."
Chatterton moved a few paces forward, with the dry cough which those whoknew his temper recognized as a danger signal, then wheeled round uponhis heel and strode toward the house; and Dane noticed that he kicked anunoffending dog he usually fondled.
As luck would have it, the next person Dane met was Lilian, and shelooked very winsome as she stood bareheaded under the morning sunshinein her thin white dress. Dane's lips set tight as he watched her, thensuddenly his face softened again.
"I am glad to see you recovering, Hilton," she greeted him. "That hathides my bandages nicely. Do you feel able to walk slowly over toCulmeny with me to-day?"
It was a tantalizing question: Dane felt not only able but very willingto walk across the breadth of Scotland in Lilian Chatterton's company.He feared however, that his moral strength would prove unequal to thestrain the excursion might impose, for it was growing very difficult toobserve the conditions of the indefinite compact.
"I am very sorry, but I have letters to write," he said.
Lilian Chatterton was a trifle quick-tempered, and though Dane knew it,and considered it not a fault but a characteristic, he wondered at theways of women as she answered:
"I could not, of course, expect you to delay your correspondence, whichis no doubt important. Have you run out of those new powder cartridges?"
Dane felt that, under the circumstances, this was particularly hard onhim, but he smiled dryly.
"The correspondence relates to my departure for London. I want you tolisten, Lilian. I have just had an interview with your uncle, whichmakes my absence appear desirable. Perhaps you can guess its purport,and the gist of what he said."
The clear rose-color deepened a little in the girl's cheeks, but sheanswered steadily.
"I will admit the possibility. The most important question is what yousaid to him."
Now Dane had not only subdued mutinous alien laborers, and held them totheir task, but he had even been complimented by a South AmericanSpaniard upon the incisive vocabulary which helped him to accomplish it.Nevertheless, at that moment he felt almost abject, and found speech ofany kind very difficult.
"Are you ashamed of your answer?" asked the girl.
"I am," Dane admitted. "There was, however, only one way in which Icould satisfy Mr. Chatterton without running the risk of allowing him toapply considerable misdirected energy to the task of convincing a secondperson. Therefore, though I did not like it, I took that way. He was notpleased with me."
"You told him----" Lilian began, coloring still more.
"I did," said Dane grimly. "Horribly unflattering, wasn't it; but it wasthe best I could do for you."
The girl first experienced a wholly illogical desire to humiliate thespeaker; but, recognizing the unreasonableness of this, she reflected amoment, and then laughed mirthlessly.
"It should certainly prove effective. Still, a woman would have found aneater way out of the difficulty!"
Lilian left him, and when the man passed out of earshot into theshrubbery, he used a few pointed and forbidden adjectives in connectionwith what he termed his luck.
He was leaning moodily upon a gate, looking down on a sunlitstubble-field the following afternoon, when the next link was forged inthe chain of circumstances which, beginning with Chatterton's fishing,would drag him through strange adventures. There was late honeysuckle onthe hedges, and festoons of warm-tinted straw. Running water sangsoothingly beneath the pine branches overhanging a neighboring hollow;while all the wide vista of river, moor, and fell was mellowed by thegolden autumn haze. Dane, however, was far from happy. He was in no wayjealous of Carsluith Maxwell, which was perhaps surprising; but, inaddition to his other troubles, it did not please him that the lattershould have accompanied Miss Chatterton home on foot from Culmeny. Theyhad also been an inordinate time over the journey.
Presently, a little brown-faced child came pattering barefooted down thelane, and stopping, glanced at him shyly, as though half afraid. She wasa pretty, elfish little thing, though her well-mended garments betokenedindustrious poverty. She apparently gathered courage when the man smiledat her.
"Whom are y
ou staring so hard at, my little maid?" said he.
The child fished out a strip of folded paper from somewhere about herdiminutive person, and held it up to him.
"Ye will be the Mr. Dane who's staying at The Larches?"
Dane nodded, and the girl glanced up and down the lane suspiciously.
"Then Sis telt me to give ye this when there was naebody to see."
"And who is your sister, and what's it all about?" asked Dane; and thelittle thing smiled roguishly.
"Just Mary Johnstone. Maybe it would tell ye gin ye lookit inside it,sir."
She vanished the next moment, with a patter of bare feet, leaving Daneto stare blankly at the folded paper.
"Now, who is Mary Johnstone, and what can she want with me?" hewondered, as he prepared to follow the child's advice and read themissive. When this had been done, however, he was not greatlyenlightened.
"_I'm taking a great liberty_," it ran. "_I am in great trouble, and youare the one person who can help me. If you would not have two littlechildren go hungry all winter, you will meet me by the planting atHallows Brig in the gloaming to-morrow. I saw you at The Larches, andthought I could trust you._"
"Very confiding of Miss Johnstone, whoever she is, but I'm thankful myconscience is clear," thought Dane. It was unfortunate that he did notobey the first impulse which prompted him to destroy the note. Insteadof this, he lighted another cigar, and sat down to consider the affair.
Just then the local constable, who on an eventful occasion had alsostuck fast in the hedge, came tramping through the stubble withelephantine gait.
"Grand weather the day, sir," he beamed. "Ye will have heard we grippitthe man who broke yere heid."
"I'm summoned as a witness; but who is Mary Johnstone?" asked Dane. "Youshould know everybody about here."
"Old Rab Johnstone's daughter; and that's no great credit to the lass.Rab's overfond of the whisky, and never does nothing when he can helpit, which is gey often, I'm thinking. The daughter's a hard workinglass--sews for the gentlefolks; and she and her brither between themkeep the two mitherless bairns fed. It's him we've got in the lock-upfor breaking yere heid."
"Oh," said Dane, as a light dawned upon him. "Then Mary Johnstone wouldbe the pretty, light-haired girl I saw sewing for Miss Chatterton?"
"That same, sir," answered the constable, with professional alacrity."Miss Chatterton has missed nothing, has she?"
"Of course not!" Dane said impatiently. "I was only inquiring out ofcuriosity. You need not mention it. Would this coin be of any use toyou?"
The official admitted that it might be; but when he appeared to smothera bovine chuckle, Dane turned upon him.
"What the deuce is amusing you so?"
"Naething, sir," the man answered sheepishly. "I'm taken that way whilesin hot weather."
The constable furnished further particulars about the poacher's familybefore he departed; and Dane, reflecting that his must be the mostdamaging testimony against the prisoner, understood why Mary Johnstonehad sent for him. It was perhaps foolish, but the child's face hadattracted him; and deciding that the lot of the pretty seamstress,struggling to bring up her sisters under the conditions mentioned, mustbe a hard one at the best, he resolved at least to hear what she had tosay.